Like most RVers, our camping rig purchases have followed a logical progression:
Tent camping became a hassle, so we bought a pop-up.

Like most RVers, our camping rig purchases have followed a logical progression:
Tent camping became a hassle, so we bought a pop-up.
All summer long I tell people to kayak into the wind first, do the hard work at the beginning so that the return trip, when you’re tired and have to go to the bathroom, is easy. Yet here we were, about to set out on a bike ride (my first in three months) doing the down hill portion—the easy part—first.
Less than an hour earlier we’d arrived in Jim Thorpe, PA and had checked into our cute boutique hotel room at Kelly Suites on Broadway for a one-night getaway to celebrate my birthday and our first break of the season. Two days earlier, when Mitch surprised me with his plan, I’d never even heard of Jim Thorpe, or of this impressive bike trail which stretches 165 miles from Wilkes-Barre, PA to Bristol, PA.
Home is where you’re safe. It is familiar; you know your way around so you feel comfortable. You belong. And even when it changes – maybe it gets crowded, or things you thought you could count on disappear, personalities come and go – you still flock to it. At least if you’re a bird and home is Point of Cedars Island in Little Assawoman Bay.
My favorite running trail in our area is the 4.5 mile Bob Trail at Trap Pond State Park. Why is it so great?
“There’re some waves out there,” Mitch said as we paddled away from the ramp towards the mouth of the Ocean City Commercial Harbor. He couldn’t hide the excitement in his voice and I was trying to decide if he was legitimately surprised.
Because we’ll be in Delaware the majority of the winter this year, I am determined to do something active outside, if not every day, then every other day. So far it hasn’t been difficult. We’re enjoying the autumn we didn’t have in October/November. But I know the real test is coming
I’m guessing that if you’re not from Delaware and you’re not a history buff you don’t know who John Dickinson was. If I learned his name in my high school and college American history classes, I’d long since forgotten it. But for years, every time I drove to Dover and passed the sign pointing to his home, I’d been curious about him.
The Prickly Pear Trail at the Fresh Pond State Park is one of Brandi’s favorite places to run. She loves the surface – a combination of packed dirt, grass, pine needles, and crushed gravel. She loves the distance – about 3.5 miles. But the biggest reason she loves it is the “Brandi-time” she gets about two miles into the trail.
The Breakwater-Junction Trail is a rare 17 mile loop route connecting Rehoboth and Lewes, Delaware. (Rare because most bike trails are out and back.) But the fact that it is a loop is not its only attractive feature.
Only an hour from the beach still buzzing with post-Labor Day vacationers, the boat ramp at the end of George Island Landing Road seemed eerily vacant. The ample asphalt parking area surrounded by rip-rap hovered barely a foot above the calm surface of the bay. If too many vehicles were to park on one side, it looked like the whole thing would tip into the water. To the north of the area, one empty, newish-looking house perched on its spindly pilings over the bay. To the south, an abandoned commercial fishing operation sat rusting on its bulkhead. The word that immediately came to mind as I surveyed the scene was “lonesome.” Perfect.